


Two Left Feet

by Mapal



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapal/pseuds/Mapal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dancing was certainly not Daryl's thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Left Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clownfrogg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownfrogg/gifts).



> For clownfrogg for being awesome

   If there was one thing Daryl hated, but was annoyingly used to, it was being cornered. Most of all, cornered by dim-witted walkers. It was a supply run gone a little awry, but then when did a supply run ever go right? There was only a small group of them now their numbers were so low, and so even Carol had left the camp to go with them to find food. It was nice to have her back, and he trusted her to keep an eye out and pull her weight. He was even comfortable enough to take her with him when Rick suggested they split up, leaving Michonne to go with their fearless leader.

Okay so maybe it wasn't a case of his own comfort. He was wary about leaving Carol alone with Rick, for several various reasons. That and he quite enjoyed her company. Maybe he enjoyed her company more than 'quite'. Even with both their skills, they ended up cornered. Blocked in on a street with walkers coming from either way. Rick and Michonne were nowhere to be seen and Daryl pressed his back to Carol's as they weighed up their options. “What about one of these buildings?” Carol called to him.

Daryl lifted his gaze to look around them at the derelict, abandoned houses. It was an old, small town with limited places to hide, but maybe one of the buildings around them could be useful. He fired a bolt into a nearby walker and made his decision. “That one,” he said quickly as he grabbed her arm and pulled her after him across the street. It was the only escape they had, and he had no idea what they would face inside.

He lost his grip on Carol's arm to take down a walker with his knife, feeling her fingers around his wrist to keep contact a few seconds later. They sprinted as fast as they could, hopping over the fallen bodies of walkers before reaching the door of the house. It was a big town house that appeared to be split into apartments, very old fashioned and looking a bit worse for wear, and Daryl had no problem slamming against the door and breaking it open.

He led the way up the stairs, taking them quickly with his long stride but making sure that Carol stayed with him. The gurgled groans of the walkers became more distant as they climbed, heading up to the top floor, the fourth. The broken door seemed to be catching them a little off guard, making them get stuck on their entrance. If they moved fast enough, it was possible they could lost the walkers. At least, that was all they could hope.

On the fourth floor they were faced with the door to the top apartment, and Daryl was a little more careful getting it open so they could shut it again behind them. Carol pressed against him again, keeping watch behind them as he quickly got the door open. They both barricaded the door when they got inside, pushing a nearby, heavy dresser up against it before finally stopping to take a breath.

It was quiet, the only noises being the moans of the walkers below them and their own heavy breathing. “We should check if it's clear,” Carol whispered, turning to look into the apartment. It seemed in keeping with the rest of the building, old with wooden floorboards and antique furniture. It seemed relatively untouched considering the apocalypse that was happening.

They split up, heading different directions to check if there were any stray walkers. Daryl slung his bow on his back and kept his knife high, pushing open bedroom and bathroom doors to check inside. He dispatched of an elderly walker in the bathroom and found the rest to be clear, returning to the lounge to meet back with Carol. “All clear now,” he muttered, earning a nod in return.

“Same,” she sighed, slipping her knife away and running a hand through her hair. She looked more drawn out than usual lately, tired and weathered by the world. She had lost some of the flare she had developed at the prison and gained a certain hollowness to her eyes sometimes.

He wasn't sure what she had faced while she had been on her own, before he had managed to track her down and bring her back with the threat to Rick that he _would_ go apeshit if she wasn't allowed to stay. Something told him there was more to her story than met the eye, but he hadn't pressed. He didn't want to push further than he was welcome to.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, trying to catch her gaze as she leaned against the nearest wall and let out a long breath, the energy she had had during their escape seeming to drain from her. She nodded, but hardly seemed convinced herself. The surety around her seemed to have disappeared lately, and Daryl had to say he missed the playful jabs and the teasing remarks. It was a little like his whole world had tilted.

Daryl hesitated for a moment, returning his knife to his side before taking a step closer. Carol looked up at him, eyes hooded and devoid of emotion. “What's wrong?” he pushed gently. She didn't answer, only shook her head a little and bit her lip, a silent plea for him to not push. He didn't say anything else, just moved even closer, testing the waters by getting a bit more into her space. She didn't move away, looking up at him silently as he lifted his hands to place them on her shoulders.

Carol sagged, allowing him to gently pull her away from the wall and into his arms. She buried her face against his chest, limply wrapping her arms around his torso. Resting his chin on top of her head, he could vaguely smell the scent under all that death that was distinctly Carol. Nowadays it wasn't perfume or make-up, or even that fancy shower gel, it was just what people smelled like and Daryl thought he could probably recognise her anywhere, blindfolded, just by pressing his nose to her.

They stood in silence, pressed together, as they both listened to the discordant moans, the shuffling of feet and the scratching of walkers, slowly getting fainter as they all gave up with the stairs and went in search of an easier meal. Only when it all went quiet did Daryl speak again. “It's not gonna be clear for a while,” he mumbled against her hair. She shook her head and sighed, looking up at him with a half smile.

“Doesn't matter,” she replied, slowly removing herself from his arms and leaving him feeling cold. He let her walk away, watching her as she investigated their surroundings. There was an old armchair by the window, a perfect lookout spot, and he made his way to it before slumping down in it. Walkers were wandering the streets, a large herd of them that seemed to be stopping off in town for a snack. They would probably pass through and clear eventually, but with so many there was no chance that they could fight their way out yet. Maybe in the morning there would be a path for them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small laugh from Carol, the now strange noise startling him and drawing his attention away from the window to where she was stood next to a desk. “What?” he asked as he watched her lift the lid on something and blow some dust away.

“Record player,” she said simply, running her fingers over it.

“Don't they need electricity?” He unhooked his bow from his back so he could sit properly, laying it across his lap.

“Not this one,” she said happily, tapping a handle on the front of the player's box. A frown crossed his face as he watched her flick through a selection of records that were stacked beside. If she got the damn thing working it wouldn't exactly be the best thing for their situation.

She finally selected a record she was satisfied with and set it all up, winding the player up before setting it going. The music crackled into life, pleasantly quiet instead of alerting every walker within a ten mile radius to their presence. He smiled a little at the pleased look on her face as the Everly Brothers sang from the spinning record. A part of him lit up to see a glint of something in her again and he allowed himself to put his bow on the floor beside the chair as he watched her sway gently to the starting tune of _So Sad_.

He didn't get to enjoy it for long before she was making her way over to him, offering her hand to him with a determined smirk on her face. “If you wan' me to dance you're gonna have to put a gun to my head,” he grumbled.

“Don't put it past me,” she said in a light, sing song voice. He glared at her from where he sat, clutching at the arms of the chair for a moment as he thought. She seemed genuinely happy for the first time in a long time, the foreign sound of music filling the air.

It was with a resigned sigh that he took her hand and lifted himself from the chair. “I can't dance,” he warned quietly as she took both of his hands and led him into a bit of an open space in the middle of the lounge.

“I'll teach you,” she answered simply.

Daryl couldn't remember the last time he had felt so awkward as he tried to follow her lead, watching his feet as she guided him. It was difficult and probably painful for her with the amount of times he stepped lightly on her toes. The music was a little upbeat, and she tried to get him to move in time with her but he felt like an elephant.

She was having fun, unfortunately, and he didn't have it in his head to stop her as they moved around the room and she taught him a few steps. As the song faded out and _All I Have To Do Is Dream_ started to creep into the room, Daryl felt a little part of him die inside. She laughed at the the expression of distress that must have been on his face, collapsing against him a little and hugging him. “You look like someone just died, pookie,” she teased, the old pet name for him making his heart skip a little.

“I feel like I just died,” he murmured, yet he couldn't help but smile at the mischievous glint in her eye. She swayed them to the song and rested her arms up on his shoulders, his hands moving to rest on her hips.

“Maybe something slower,” she mused as she listened to the song.

“Do we have to?” His childish groaning was only met by a prod to the chest as she parted from him again and went to the record player. It appeared she already had one lined up and she cut off the song to take the record off and replace it.

He vaguely recognised the song, something by Patsy Cline that he eventually worked out was _I Fall To Pieces_. Carol sure knew how to pick them. As she returned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck again, he was sure he could suffer through this a bit longer. Her body was warm against his as she pressed up, closing any space between them. “No looking at your feet,” she ordered. He offered her his best glare but she only grinned in return. It was like she was slowly coming out of her shell again and it was probably the best thing he had seen in a very long time.

He was still heavy footed, incapable of really doing much, but she allowed him to move a lot slower and kept her toes well away from his feet. They eventually got up an even rhythm between them so they could move in time with the music, but it came just as the first song ended. “I was getting good, too,” he said with a smirk. Carol laugh and let her head fall against his chest as the next song started. “Oh, really?” It was _Crazy_ , as if the whole situation wasn't sappy enough as it was.

They slowed right down, barely even moving any more as Daryl dared to lift a hand and stroke it through her hair. He felt her sigh where his hand was pressed to her back. His fingers rain down her spine slowly, feeling every bone through her skin. It wasn't like she was a heavyweight, wasn't like she had the curves of a pin-up model, but Daryl hardly cared. She was Carol, that was enough.

Something about the whole atmosphere actually made him relax, her warm touch at the back of his head calming him. He even ended up humming the tune, making her laugh against his chest. All he could do was grin and keep humming, his slightly out of tune accompaniment being joined by soft lyrics from the woman pressed against him.

They danced to Patsy until the record ran out, the music replaced with an empty crackling. Carol sighed and drew back reluctantly, looking up at him with a much more open expression. “Better,” he said quietly, moving his hand from the back of her head to brush at her cheek. She smiled weakly at him and he didn't miss the quick dart down her eyes made. His stomach somersaulted like he had just gone over a drop in a roller-coaster as she started to lean up. He was helpless, all he could do was lower his head to meet her half way.

Her lips were warm and soft, but chapped from her time in the sun. The kiss was soft, chaste and quick, but it was enough to make him feel like his heart wanted to escape through his throat. There were so many reasons why he shouldn't have done that, so many of his own rules that he had just broken, and yet there were so many reasons why it was the exact _right_ thing to do.

Carol was moving away from him far too soon for his liking, making her way to the player again to take the record off. “You can put another on, if you want,” he said as he followed her. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled.

“Sure,” she answered softly before looking down at the stack of records. She slipped one out and placed it on the player, giving it another wind up before putting the needle on.

The song that came on he immediately recognised. Louis Armstrong's husky voice filled the room as he sang _What A Wonderful World_ and Daryl couldn't help but find the song a little ironic. He took her hand and led her over towards the chair. He was done dancing for the night, he had a different line to pursue.

He flopped down into the chair and pulled her down onto his lap, not hesitating to wrap her in his arms. She let her head drop to his shoulder and nuzzled her face up against his neck as the music carried on playing. He found himself singing along quietly, if a little out of tune, as he trailed his hand idly up and down her arm. She eventually lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him with a slightly puzzled smile.

“So you sing but you don't dance?” she said with a prod to his chest.

“I don't do either,” he answered, rocking his head so he was facing her, just centimetres away.

“Sure,” she teased, moving up and adjusting so she was straddling his lap.

It wasn't exactly a situation he had expected himself to be in, but it certainly made him glad that he had recently had a 'rare' wash. No one would guess it but he did exercise a basic hygiene routine. Carol was light on his lap, barely weighing anything, and he put it at the back of his mind to express some concern over how much she was eating. She was always cooking for everyone else, for him, and yet he had to admit he hardly saw her eat.

His hands ran up her sides, tracing the gentle curve from her hips up to her rib cage. In return, she trailed her fingers up over his collarbone and along the side of his neck before cupping his cheek. Daryl wasn't sure where this was going, all he knew was it was foreign to him and he really had no idea what to do. It wasn't like he was a virgin, of course, he was far from it. It was just that this was _Carol_. Sweet Carol. Carol with her gentle smile and pretty eyes and the dead abusive husband.

He was hyper aware of her situation, of how she might react, and he was reluctant to go any further. He didn't want to hurt or scare her, didn't want to make her do something that she wasn't comfortable with. “Carol-” he started, but she cut him off quickly.

“It's okay,” she interrupted, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. “I'm okay.”

“You sure?” he murmured against his mouth, sneaking in another light peck.

“I'll tell you to stop if I need to.”

He took her encouragement and tried to follow it, letting it steady his hands as he tangled one in her hair and rested the other on the small of her back. They kissed long and deep, no sense of urgency or desperation. It was languid and lingering and everything he had been waiting for. It was better than he had expected, better than the thoughts he had dared to let cross his mind and the dreams that had kept him awake at night.

Her taste was like a drug, better than anything he had tried before, and he allowed himself to ride the high of it. His felt light headed. Her skin was warm under his fingers as he slid his hand up under her shirt at the back. She moaned lightly against his lips, her hands moving to run down his body. Her touch felt incredibly good, soft and warm where her fingers brushed his skin. He was aware she was turning him on, and the rock of her hips against his told him she was pretty aware of it too.

Before he was too far gone to actually do anything more than screw her into next year, he pushed her back gently. “Come on,” he managed to say as he guided her off his lap. She frowned at him but gave him her patience as he awkwardly got to his feet. He managed to walk with her in tow towards the bedroom he had checked earlier. It was at the back of the apartment, away from its main door, and he remembered it had a rather comfy looking bed in it.

Dusk was starting to take over, casting the apartment in shadow as he led her into the bedroom. He threw the dusty comforter back to reveal pretty clean sheets underneath and then didn't get the chance to do anything else before a light weight with powerful force was pushing him down to the mattress. He landed on his back with a small 'ooph' and peered up at Carol as she resumed her straddling position.

He let her set the pace at first, allowing her to remove any clothing from his torso and cast it aside so her hands could roam over his skin, which felt beyond heavenly. It was like she knew just where to touch to drive him a little crazy, fingers dancing over every little scar, tracing the lines of his muscles and making them tense and quiver to her touch.

When he was quite sure she was comfortable, her mouth latched onto his throat, he lifted the bottom of her shirt and slowly pulled it up over her head to reveal bare, pale skin that was soft to the touch and covered in little freckles. He ignored the odd scar on her abdomen and torso, just like she was ignoring the no-go area she had discovered previously which was his back.

It wasn't like he didn't trust her, it was just something he didn't really want to put a blot on an otherwise pretty perfect scenario. At least, it was as perfect as an intimate situation could get at such a point in time. He took her lead as she removed his belt, unclipping hers too and laying it nearby in case. His was set beside hers and he allowed his hands to wander to the waistband of her pants before he paused. “Boots off,” he mumbled, looking up to the dim glint of her eyes.

She took the gentle order, moving so she could unlace her boots and take them off. He took the opportunity to remove his own, reaching down to pull the laces and then pushing them off with his feet so they landed with a small thud on the floor. He paused at the noise, listening carefully for any signs that they were discovered. Carol waited to let him listen, watching him.

Satisfied that there was only the usual distant groaning, he leaned forward to help her tug off her second boot and then pulled her back on top of him. A sense of urgency was starting to creep into him, a _need_ for more. She let him run his hands over her breasts and back down her body again. He didn't hesitate to unbutton her pants, because she was already doing the same to him. They simultaneously, and a little awkwardly, started to remove each others clothes.

Daryl went commando when things got desperate in the underwear department, when scouting for new underpants wasn't an option and neither was doing some laundry, and things got a little unsavoury after you had already worn them back-to-front and inside-out, and Carol let out a slightly amused giggle at that as she pulled his pants down to reveal just how aroused he was. “Shut up,” he mumbled before leaning up to place a kiss to her lips and then removing her pants.

She let out a small bark of laughter as he roughly but playfully shoved them down in a mock strop. “Do more laundry and it won't be a problem,” he teased, only making her laugh more.

“I am not washing your underwear,” she said through her laughter. He muffled his own laughter against her shoulder and pulled her down so he could lay back and still kiss her. They stayed like that for a while, Carol still in her underwear and Daryl naked other than his socks, which would have to go soon. Both were happy to kiss and explore each others' bodies.

All Daryl was aware of was her scent and the soft, breathy little moans she let out against his lips as she rocked gently against him. Eventually he slid a hand between them to tease at her panties and encourage her to move so he could get them off. In the same movement, he rolled them over so he was on top, dropping her underwear to the floor and then reaching back to tug his socks off. Her bra followed, along with her own socks, and then there was no barriers between them at all.

He felt vulnerable, a primal panic rising in him that he tried to push down and ignore. He couldn't lose it now, he couldn't ruin it after how far they had come. He moved his mouth down to her left breast and carefully placed a kiss there, judging her reaction. The pleased little purr of a moan was enough encouragement, pushing him to place more kisses against the soft skin as he trailed a hand down over her stomach. He let his fingers pass over her prominent hip bones, feeling her arch up against him and hearing another moan, breathy and intentionally hushed.

Daryl's hand slipped down further, feeling the light coating of hair across her pubic bone that made his veins run hot. He could hardly believe this was happening, feeling like he was in a dream. One of those dreams that he never wanted to wake up from. He felt his way further, fingers gently running down until he felt the slightly prominent nub of her clit. She let out a quick gasp at the first, curious touch, hips jerking uncontrollably against him. His second touch was more confident, rubbing smoothly and making her sigh heavily.

As he played lightly, letting his fingers slide back now an then to tease her and feel the growing dampness, his mouth moved down her body slowly. He could feel her breath coming sharper and quicker, was well aware of her general state. He was still hyper-aware of how she was reacting, of which actions were okay and which were negative.

So far, it was all good. As his kisses reached her belly, she put a tight grip on his hair, shoving him almost painfully downwards. He grunted a little but wasn't one to disobey such a forceful order. His lips skipped down the rest of her body, dropping kisses across her abdomen and hips until he was right between her legs.

Carol let out a sharp, whining gasp as he pressed his mouth to her clit, flicking his tongue out to tease her. Her fingers were almost painful in his hair and he actually considered if he should cut it for a crazy moment. He decided that actually he quite liked it, looking up at her from his position to see her watching him with lidded eyes.

He was winding her up, he knew that. It seemed to be exactly what she wanted, her chest rising and falling heavily and her head rolling back as he sucked softly. He could see her knuckles going white in the dying light where they gripped at the sheets, twisting them tight as he smoothed one hand down her thigh and used the fingers of the other to press into her.

Her hips rocked up, pushing his fingers in deeper, and he felt her relax. He kept up what he was doing, doing his best with his mouth as his fingers rubbed inside her and drew the best little whines from her, until she let out a loud, sharp moan and her legs tensed up around him, as if she didn't quite know what to do with them. He felt one of her feet brush against his side before she overcame the sensation and let her legs separate once more.

“Daryl,” she panted, tugging at his hair to lift his head, “I don't remember the last time someone did that and... I swear... if you carry on...” He smirked up at her and purposefully pressed his fingers up against that spot inside her that he had discovered which made her hips jerk and drew a long, low moan from her.

He wasn't that mean, Daryl decided, and he slowly pulled his fingers out before clambering back up so his hands were either side of her shoulders. He dropped a kiss to her lips, something he didn't have a choice in as she pulled him down. She seemed incredibly determined now, venturing into his mouth with her tongue and reaching down between them to wrap her hand around his erection.

He was incredibly sensitive, jumping at first at the touch. His own hand had been his friend in any desperate situations since the world went to shit, so the touch of someone else was enough to almost overload his senses. He groaned against her mouth and arched his back up, the sharp bolt of pleasure making all of his muscles tighten up. He had thought he was being a little cruel, but the light, swift touches told him that he would always be the one being mercilessly teased.

She seemed to quickly lose her patience, soon rocking her hips up and guiding him forwards. He took her lead, bowing his head to look down between them as he pressed against her and then slid in. The low, soft moan that escaped her was something he thought he would never forget. It was like a release, her body relaxing beneath him and accepting him.

Despite her relaxed muscles, he could feel Carol drawn tight like a bow string. He moved carefully and slowly at first, watching her chest rise and fall and the muscles in her stomach tense and relax. There was a small gathering of sweat on her throat and her head was thrown back, eyes closed, moth slightly open. He could feel her blunt nails digging into his back a little, but he could sense the care around it, especially as she laid her hands down and smoothed them up his spine. It sent shivers through him, making him thrust in a little harder than he had wanted and making her let out a quick, loud cry.

“Like that, again,” she choked, pushing her legs further apart to allow him more access. He did as she said, trying to replicate the movement with a sharp thrust. She pressed her forearm to her mouth to muffle the whine that she couldn't hold back, only nodding her head at him to make him continue.

With each thrust he felt her tighten and relax around him, teetering on the edge. It was like she knew just what would get the job done and she was damn well sure it _would_ get done. Her free hand was back in his hair, running through it and gripping now and then as her whole body trembled.

Daryl saw the moment she flew apart, her hand whipping up from her mouth to grip the sheets suddenly as her whole body contracted and tensed. By instinct, he pressed a hand lightly over her mouth to muffle the inevitable sound. She was tight around him, gripping him as he thrust shallow and quick, hearing the loud, high cry that he had managed to quieten down a bit.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed quickly as soon as she relaxed, his movements stopping as he took his hand from her mouth and brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek. “I'm so sorry.” She looked up at him, a little wide-eyed, but nodded in understanding, breathing sharp and heavy as she pressed her hands to either side of his face and stroked her thumbs just under his eyes.

“It's fine, don't worry,” she panted, swallowing hard and closing her eyes for a moment to regain herself. After a few seconds she rolled her hips gently, but he could feel her trembling. He moved slowly and softly, gathering her in his arms and pressing his face to her neck. If he was honest, his actions had put a dampener on things. He felt terrible but he knew that a noise like that would have lured anyone nearby right to them, and she seemed to understand.

She lifted his head so she could kiss him, her touches soothing and comforting as she encouraged him to keep going with her hips. Every gentle movement from him seemed to push the after-quakes of her orgasm, pulling little whines from her against his lips. She kept rocking him, guiding him, until he was finally there. It was hardly dramatic when it happened. He felt the pressure snap and felt the release, but the only noise he made was a low groan against her lips.

She stroked his hair as he stilled and placed feather-light kisses at the corner of her mouth. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, making him feel even more rotten.

“Don't be,” he murmured, letting himself slip out before kissing her gently. “Don't ever be.” She sighed softly and closed her eyes as she nodded. He dropped a kiss on her forehead before carefully rolling from her onto his back. She followed, rocking onto her side and curling up against him. “You're perfect as you are,” he muttered into the darkness that had overtaken the room, feeling her squeeze him lightly in return and bury her face against his shoulder. They would get dressed soon but, for now, neither particularly wanted to destroy the soft, warm atmosphere that enveloped them.


End file.
